


Random Metalocalypse Fanfictions I Wrote That Are Mostly SkwisTok

by wh33zy



Category: Metalocalypse (Cartoon)
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:15:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23621431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wh33zy/pseuds/wh33zy
Summary: Read the title.
Relationships: Skwisgaar Skwigelf/Toki Wartooth
Kudos: 14





	1. You Have Acquired: New Rhythm Guitarist!

**Author's Note:**

> These fics can't really stand alone but I also didn't want them collecting dust in my laptop. I figured someone might enjoy them, hopefully as much as I did when I wrote them. c:

Skwisgaar definitely felt better with another Scandinavian in the band because: someone to  _ fully  _ talk to and someone to relate with. Sweden and Norway are right next to each other, and with Norway being the home of black metal, they should have  _ loads  _ to talk about. They probably won’t have to speak in English which is a plus! Yeah, the new guy is technically still a kid, but the similarities outweigh the differences, he’s sure. Not that Skwisgaar  _ needs  _ friends or anything, at least he doesn’t think so...but it’s just nice.

And now having to live in this tiny house with him that they can  _ barely  _ afford, his expectations were  _ very  _ let down. 

Besides the guitar playing, Toki doesn’t fit into a death metal band.

The first morning after the night it came out that the brunette was homeless from being kicked out, sort of a runaway, and  _ illegal, _ he revealed  _ who  _ he was without saying a word. Skwigaar awakened that afternoon with a hangover to the shades in the livingroom drawn up, the sunlight making his headache so much  _ worse.  _ They  _ never  _ let the sunlight in. The house is always kept as dark as possible- light _hurt._

The place also smelled so much better; less like a basement of sweaty musicians and more like air freshener. And laundry. The laundry was done, clothes neatly folded and placed in baskets that they had bought for this purpose but never once used. That means that there were no clothes strewn about without care, even their shoes were lined up neatly by the door for when they wanted to leave. It also didn’t smell like the garbage no one took out or the dirty dishes in the sink just past the livingroom because they were both taken care of and put in their respective places. 

This shitty, little  _ nothing  _ of a home has never looked so utterly immaculate, as if the mother he never had existed.

And on the couch, the culprit of this all was wearing the same clothes he had met them in, now without the stains. His hair neatly combed but still damp with the way the lines where the hair was detangled were still showing. A blue bowl of oatmeal was sitting in his lap. The blanket he slept under folded neatly and thrown over the back of the couch. His icy-blue eyes were glued onto the cartoon he was watching on the small TV, the sound lowered so he didn’t wake up any other of his new bandmates. He had this pleased grin on his face as he watched the colorful program, as if someone who was one year away from adulthood could enjoy a Saturday morning cartoon more than a kid did. 

Then he notices Skwisgaar, his grin widening to the point where even the lead guitarist had to admit it was cute (which is  _ another  _ thing that doesn’t belong), and says, “God dag!” (Good day!) As if he were some cheerful protagonist in a kid’s movie. 

The Swede nods a, “God...dag.” Still looking for  _ who  _ cleaned up because he sure as hell knows it wasn’t any of the other band members. “Dids you...Dids you dos all this? 

“Dos what?” 

“Cleans everythinks.” It’s  _ spotless. _

Toki nods proudly, “I gots up early. I likes cleaninks!” 

“Ands you’re watchings….?” 

“The cartoons channels.” 

"I sees..." 

"You tinks someones coulds takes me to the... _the..."_ Toki stopped to think about the word for 'grocery store' in English. "Foods place? I wants to bake muffins!" 

Is he a rhythm guitarist or a fucking  _ Disney princess? _

Muffins do sound kinda good right now though...

Skwisgaar lets out a long sigh and squeezes his eyes shut, mainly from the brightness of the room worsening his headache. He pinches his nose bridge and asks, “How  _ olds  _ are yous agains?” Which didn’t matter  _ at all  _ during the audition, and after, but now he  _ has  _ to know because no rockstar acts like this… Also a  _ child  _ really shouldn’t be hanging around them, it’d be totally uncool. It'd cramp their style and everything. 

Toki’s smile drops at that, some fear settling in at the mere thought of doing something wrong _already,_ “S-Seventeens?” 

The Swede  _ wanted  _ to conclude ‘well  _ that  _ explains it’ but it really doesn’t. When he was seventeen, he had  _ no  _ desire to get up early, clean, and eat breakfast with the morning’s cartoons, let alone  _ like  _ it. The same goes for his peers. 

“Ands you wants to be rockstars? Of deaths metals band?” 

“Ja?” 

“Where we are the darks and the broodings and louds, and wearingks all black?

Another enthusiastic nod. “I thinks it cools!” 

“Hm.” Is all Skwisgaar hums as he approaches the laundry basket near the couch, crouching to pick out what belonged to him. 

Toki shifting in his peripheral vision briefly drags his gaze up to him, but what he notices makes him doubletake. He could see up his t-shirt sleeve where he saw the ugliest, most brutal looking scar that wrapped around his bicep to his back. It was the width of his thumb and caused a shallow crevice in his skin. He wanted to ask where someone like him earned such a mark, but it wasn’t his business and he’s not supposed to care. 

The brunet gets up once a commercial comes on to put his bowl in the sink, Skwisgaar’s eyes quickly going back to the neat stacks of folded clothes. But he finds himself looking at Toki again as he walks by, seeing the sharp tips of various scars sticking out from the worn neck of his shirt- 

“What?”

"Whats yourselves!" Skwisgaar hated being caught doing _anything._

"Why yous lookingks at me likes that?" 

“I was tryingks to remembers what I was goingks to ask yous! Wheres dids you…” Skwisgaar then clears his throat. “Hows did yous gets those sc- yous guitars? Looks wellmades.” 

“Saves up lots of money. Wents two weeks withouts foods. My black metals friends ordered its for me.” 

“You wents thats longs without foods? Fors a guitar?” And when he gets a nod in response, “Brutals.” Maybe this is what the Americans mean when they say ‘starving artist’. 

Toki smiles at him gratefully for that and disappears into the kitchen. 

The band may have picked up someone interesting...or troublesome. 

At least he’s  _ very  _ dedicated. 

And  _ not  _ Magnus. 


	2. The Power of Fear

Toki sometimes scared him. 

Scared him  _ shitless.  _

And no, Skwisgaar isn’t talking about Toki when he’s so angry that he beats whoever made him feel that way to a pulp (literally). He’s not talking about that wild look in his eyes he’d get when anger pushed him enough, the change in his voice, the flexed muscles. Not even the scars that only made the band wonder  _ what the hell he did to earn them. _

It was his guitar playing. 

The audition is what put the fear in him initially. There was  _ no one  _ out there who made Skwisgaar play  _ that  _ seriously or even got onto his competitive side like Toki. Toki who was younger than him, presumably self-taught, and who had never been in a band. Nothing surprised the Swede, but he did  _ immensely.  _

Of course, all of Skwigaar’s confidence and prowess came back when Toki’s practicing was severely lacking. It was the first time he felt safe and without the need to spend every waking moment practicing. So he reveled in it and made sure his threat knew that he was inferior in every way possible. 

But then there were moments that Toki was inspired to pick up his guitar and play for a few to several hours  _ ‘for funsies’.  _ Skwisgaar would scoff at that, but he’d listen to him closely, listening to every riff and run, every lick. He’d make up for a lot of what was lost from not remembering that he’s a rhythm guitarist and then he’d be displaying skills that took Skwisgaar so long to master _.  _ After a few days, he’d be toe-to-toe with the other Scandinavian in the band like it was  _ nothing  _ which just isn’t fair.

Then the blond would  _ panic.  _ He’d have nightmares where Toki replaced him as the lead guitarist and then treated him the same way Skwisgaar did when he was on top. They’d wake him up in the middle of the night, roughly push him out of bed, and grab the nearest guitar with his metronome. He’d play until he was too tired to or when the sun came up. 

The cycle repeats.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kinda remembered that Toki is the second fastest guitarist


	3. An Understanding

Skwisgaar hates to admit that he’s grown attached to Toki. Toki might not deny that he’s grown attached to Skwisgaar. 

They’ve never talked about it, never needed to. They haven’t even given much thought to their relationship, to the weird kind of love between them. They don’t really notice when there’s a band split or ‘who sits next to who’ it’s usually the two of them together. It’s not like they could explain it if they could. It’s just... _ how it is. _

There’s only this vague understanding that they are two beings whose lives would  _ suck  _ if they were without one another.


	4. You Should Probably Let Go

Skwisgaar has  _ never  _ hugged anyone that  _ long  _ or as  _ tightly.  _

A long embrace like that would make him seriously unmetal and  _ definitely  _ gay, especially with those hot tears running down his face. But, he didn’t care; that thought was the furthest thing from his mind which was a mix of guilt, sorrow, and relief. And to make his brutal meter go down even lower, he’ll admit it:  _ G-d, did he miss Toki.  _ Every night, if he wasn’t hammered or so high that he couldn’t remember what color his hair was, he saw Toki’s helpless face, pleading for someone to do  _ something  _ as a knife was plunged in- 

_ That  _ memory doesn’t mean anything right now. All that mattered was that they got out of that dark, dank torture dungeon. Skwisgaar just grabbed him and ran, and when they got out, the spotlight of the Dethkopter shining down on them,

“I-” Toki tries to start, his voice hoarse and terribly weak. "Skwisgaar-" 

Skwisgaar just grabs him by the shoulders, looking at his face almost as if he was making sure that he was real. Or maybe he was assessing the incredible amount of damage, seeing how much he’s changed in what seemed like a short amount of time. But it was only for a second or two because before Toki began building up the energy to ask, he was being hugged. 

It’s so tight, the rhythm guitarist can’t breathe properly (not that he already could). Lanky arms locked around his frame, squeezing him ever so closer to their owner. The embrace was very hot, probably because Toki was so cold. This was probably the nicest thing Skwisgaar has ever done for him (besides for letting him join the band), and as much as he wanted to savor this moment because he was sure it’d never return, he wasn’t strong enough to stand on his own for long. 

“Skwisgaar…” He strained to warn, his knees now buckling and feeling himself slid to the ground. 

The blond just sinks with him, not willing to have to let him go for a second. Suddenly, there are sirens, some from police and others from ambulances all mixed together with the wind and the constant beat of the dethkopter’s wings. There were still no words between them, mainly because they both didn’t know where to even  _ begin.  _

“Let go, Skwisgaar.” Charles says, a hand on the lead guitarist’s shoulder. “Toki has to go to the hospital.”

A stretcher is hurriedly wheeled out to them, and even as he creaks and squeaks to where they are. He knows in his head that he should let the professionals take care of him, but he can’t seem to make himself move. 


	5. Begging At This Point

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTEXT FOR THIS: Was kinda thinking about if Toki was mad at the band after Doomstar and was considering leaving the band.

“Sos you’re reallys leavinks me?  _ I means,  _ the bands?” Skwisgaar asks, the hospital room dark from nightfall. 

Toki looks at him, more in confusion before, “How...How dids you gets in heres?”

“What does you means?” 

“Visitsting hours are overs, how-”

“Dunnos, just...walks right ins.” 

“Seriouslys?”

“Ja, rights ups the skairs.” 

“Why you takes the sdairs?” 

“What’s wrongs with the skairs?” 

“Nothings, it’s justs…the elvelators is easie-”

“How I gots here isn’t importants right nows, Toki!” Skwisgaar exclaims, exasperated. “I travels the ways I wants to travels!” 

Toki reaches for the remote attach to his bed which has a big, beautiful red nurse call-button- 

“Toki.” 

He picks up the remote. 

_ “Tokis.”  _

His finger lifts over the button, blue-grey eyes narrowing at his unwanted visitor. 

_ “Toki, please don’ts.”  _

“Why shouldn’ts I? I don’ts wants to talks to yous  _ and  _ you breakinks the rules!” He hisses. 

_ “I’ll gives you a guitars solos.”  _

“Bullshits!” 

Skwisgaar’s hand shoots forward and grabs the remote, successfully snatching it away and moving it out of reach by putting it on a rollaway table closer to the door. He was surprised that he was able to since Toki is a  _ master  _ at keep-away and he’s a lot stronger than he looks...but then he remembered that he was weaker than ever right now. 

“Hey! That’s mines! Gives it backs!” 

“It’s doosents belonks to you! It’s the hopskittle’s!”

Toki takes a larger breath in, most likely to call  _ loudly  _ for help-

His skin gooseprickles when a cold hand clamps over his mouth, muffling a call for a nurse or security. Of course, this doesn’t phase him one bit as he parts his lips, and clamps his teeth down on pale skin. 

Skwisgaar lets out an explosive string of hissed Swedish obscenities and yanks his hand back, instantly looking at the damage (or lackthereof). “You  _ mothers-!  _ What’re yous  _ doingks _ , bitings my hands like the animals-” 

“Gets outs!” Is hissed at him. 

“Nots until I talks to you!”

“I alreadys told you; I don’ts wanna talk!” 

“Then you don’ts have ta talk!” The blond almost looks desperate at this point. “Just...listens… _ please. _ ” 

Skwisgaar Skwigelf, lead guitarist of Dethklok, saying  _ ‘please?’  _ to the nobody rhythm guitarist of all people? 

The younger man crosses his arms over his chest tightly, leaning back in the elevated mattress.  _ “Fines.” _ He says like a kid who didn’t get his way. “It betters be good.” 

Skwisgaar suddenly felt nervous and half wished the rest of the band snuck out with him. He’s never felt for on the spot in his life (besides for when Charles discovered that the band did something bad). “So, yous...yous  _ really  _ leavinks the band?” It  _ sucked  _ how much the concept broke his heart...which, it shouldn’t because that’s  _ way too  _ unmetal. 

Toki just shrugs in response. “Dunnos.” He murmurs. “Maybes.” 

There was a feeling of hope for a split second. “We don’ts want you to leaves, Tokis. We can’ts dos it without you.” 

The brunet’s intended scoff turns into full-blown laughter. “Reallys? Yous so full of shits, you could makes amazing politikcians!” His scary giggling lowers in volume until it stops, before his hands come up to cover his face, his shoulders still shaking but not in amusement anymore. “If that’s all’s you cames to say, then yous can leaves now.” His voice this time sounds strained.

Oh good  _ lord,  _ Skwisgaar would have to talk some feelings, wouldn’t he? How  _ disgusting  _ he found such emotions to be, especially if they were for another person. But, he wanted to accomplish what he needed to accomplish, he’d  _ have  _ to, right? But it’s so  _ gay  _ and  _ unmetal  _ and so  _ not brutal,  _ that he might as well just quit the entire fucking band altogether.  _ Ugh…  _

“Toki, I-” He reaches his hand out, and isn’t sure what he would accomplish other than being smacked if he were to touch Toki. 

The hospital patient doesn’t move, but the steady beeping of the heart monitor is responding back.

“Toki, I’m heres because...because  _ I  _ can’ts dos it withouts you.”


End file.
